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Baby-Sitters Club 025

Page 8

by Ann M. Martin


  "But honey," said Mrs. Bruno, "you know we can't have a cat, no matter how responsible you are. Hunter's just too allergic." Kerry put Tigger's things back in the closet. Then she faced us, biting at one of her nails. "Um, I was also hoping to prove that Hunter would be okay as long as the cat stayed in my room. But - but I guess it didn't work." Mrs. Bruno closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, she said, "Kerry, I'm a little confused. Did you know the kitten belonged to Mary Anne?" "Not at first," said Kerry. "I really didn't. I thought he was lost or that somebody had dumped him by the side of the road. Then Logan told us about Tigger and I figured it out, only I thought, well, Mary Anne isn't taking very good care of him if she lets him wander away. I decided he'd be better off with me." Mrs. Bruno didn't agree with that, of course, so she and Kerry kept talking. My mind began to wander. I thought of how different Logan had seemed lately, of how he'd sounded kind of irritated that us baby-sitters wanted him to come to our meetings about Tigger, and how he'd jumped right in and been so helpful when I got the ransom note. He must have known all along that Kerry had Tigger, so he was trying to protect her. The ransom note was perfect. Kerry hadn't sent it. Logan could help with the Tigger-napping all he wanted, look like a hero, and keep Kerry's secret.

  I couldn't stand it any longer. "I have to go," I said huskily. I grabbed Tigger and headed down the hallway.

  "But I haven't paid you yet!" Mrs. Bruno called after me.

  "I'll get it tomorrow!" I shouted back.

  Logan was at my heels. "Mary Anne, what's wrong?" he cried as I barged through the front door.

  "You know what's wrong," I answered icily. "You knew about Tigger all along - and you didn't tell me." I placed Tigger in the basket on my bicycle and sped down the Brunos' driveway, without giving Logan a chance to answer me.

  Chapter 15.

  Wednesday afternoon - late.

  Things happened fast. Everyone found out about Tigger quickly. (Of course, I made a lot of phone calls, carefully leaving out the part about Logan.) Then, instead of holding a club meeting, Claudia and Mallory and I walked through the neighborhood and took down as many of the Tigger posters as we could find. Dawn gave back everyone's portion of the reward money and returned the remainder to the treasury envelope. Later, I spent as much time with Tigger as possible - talking to him, cuddling him, playing with him. That night, he slept with me.

  I did not let Tigger outside.

  Thursday.

  I did not talk to Logan. In school, we avoided each other. He sat with his guy friends at lunchtime.

  "Is anything wrong between you and Lo-gan?" Kristy asked me as we sat down in the cafeteria.

  I nodded.

  "But you don't want to talk about it?" said Dawn.

  I shook my head. I didn't want to speak. I was afraid I'd cry. Logan and I had had fights before, but this one was different. I'd never accused him of anything so awful. And I'd never felt so unsure about us. If Logan could keep Tigger from me, what did that say about our relationship? By the end of the day, I just had to know.

  I waited for Logan at his locker.

  "Hi," he said shortly when he saw me.

  "Hi," I replied. I stepped aside so he could work his combination lock.

  When his locker was open, I said, "Can I talk to you?" "Not now. I've got baseball practice." "Later? I'm not baby-sitting this afternoon. I'll be at home." "Will we have to sit outside?" "Yup." (Logan knew that.) He sighed.

  "Come on. It's a beautiful day," I told him. "And I really do want to talk." "Okay. I'll be there. See you later." Logan closed his locker, turned, and strode down the hall.

  Well, I thought, this is better than nothing.

  I walked home with Claudia. When I reached my house, the first thing I did was pick up Tigger. "Oh, it's so nice to find you here when I get home from school," I told him. I lifted him up so we were eye to eye.

  "Mrow?" asked Tigger.

  "I don't know," I answered. "Logan's coming over this afternoon. He'll explain everything then, I hope." I made sure that a bottle of Logan's favorite soda was in the refrigerator. I made sure we had ice cubes. Soda over ice in a glass is much nicer than warmish soda in a can.

  At five o'clock, our bell rang. I ran to the front door and threw it open. Logan stood on our steps, mitt in one hand, books under one arm.

  "Sit down," I told him. "I'll be right back. I'm getting you something to drink." Actually, I was getting more than that. By the time Logan rang the bell, I'd fixed up a tray. I'd put a plate of cookies in the middle and next to it a couple of napkins. Now I set the glasses on it, added the ice and soda, and carried the tray to the front door, which I managed to open as I rested the tray against the wall. When the tray and I were safely outside, Logan looked at us in surprise.

  "What's all this?" he asked.

  "Nothing," I replied. (What a dumb answer. It was cookies and soda. And I'd fixed them because I hoped to make up with Logan.) Logan took a soda and drank about half the glass in one gulp. How do boys do that? I mean, without exploding from the carbonation. Then he looked at me as if to say, "Well?" I breathed in deeply, then exhaled. "Logan," I began, "just answer one question for me, okay?" "Okay." "Did you know that Kerry was hiding Tigger in her room?" "No." "Really?" "That's two questions. And Mary Anne, I don't lie. To be honest, I'm really hurt that you could even think I'd do such a thing. Why would you think that, anyway?" "Because . . . because ..." Don't fall apart, I told myself. Sometimes when people accuse me of things, or sound like they're accusing me of things, I just crumple up and start to cry. So I took another deep breath (this is very relaxing, by the way) and said slowly, "Because of the way you've been acting lately. You snap at me, and you didn't seem to be very sympathetic when Tigger was missing. I know you helped with the search - the posters and everything - but it seemed like a huge chore for you. So I thought you knew about Kerry and Tigger and were just trying to protect Kerry. After all, she's your sister." "And you're my Mary Anne." Logan polished off the cookie he'd been eating, and put his arm around me. "I could never hurt you. Not on purpose. I couldn't lie to you. Don't you know that?" "I thought I did. But you have hurt me lately. You've changed." Logan looked down at the grass. "You might as well know," he said. "I'm about to get kicked off the baseball team." "You are? Why?" I couldn't believe it. Logan had been the star of his school team in Louisville.

  "Coach doesn't like me. He expects more of me than of anyone else. And I start making stupid mistakes because of that." "Oh." I remembered what Dawn had told me, how she'd watched Logan drop a ball that was right in his mitt.

  "So a little while ago, Coach said I'd be off the team if I didn't improve. And I've been trying to improve. I really have. But Coach yells at me all the time and just makes me so nervous. I'm thinking of quitting before I get kicked off." "Wow." "Yeah. But I guess I kind of took my baseball problem out on you. That wasn't fair." "It's okay. I should never have accused you of knowing about Tigger. That wasn't fair, either." "Kerry is a champion sneak," added Logan. "She could hide a whale in the house and we'd never notice him." "Not until you smelled him." Logan and I laughed.

  Then Logan said seriously, "I bet Kerry would change one hundred per cent if she could just make some friends here." "Well, I can help with that. I'll try to get her together with Becca Ramsey or Charlotte Jo-hanssen." "Hey, that'd be great! Listen, Mary Anne, I'm sorry about the way I acted." "And I'm sorry about the things I said. . . . Is our fight over?" "Yes. . . . Are the neighbors watching us?" "Probably. That's the purpose of this outdoor arrangement." Logan made a face. "Then let's just promise that from now on, we'll be more honest with each other." "I promise," I said solemnly.

  "Me, too," replied Logan.

  Friday.

  Club meeting day. At five-thirty we gathered in Claudia's room. Tigger was with me. He was curled up in my lap.

  As soon as our opening business was taken care of, the phone rang.

  "First job of the day!" said Kristy gaily, as she reached for the re
ceiver. She picked it up. "Hello, Baby-sitters Club. . . . Oh, hi, Logan. Hold on. Here she is." Kristy handed me the phone, saying, "If it isn't a job offer, keep it short." Ms. Bossy.

  "Hi, Logan," I said. "What's up? Oh . . ." I listened for quite awhile. When I'd hung up, I turned to the other girls. "It was a Kerry update," I said. "Logan thought you'd like to know what's happened, since you were all involved with the search for Tigger." Five heads nodded.

  "Okay. Well, of course Mr. and Mrs. Bruno were not too happy about what Kerry had done, but they understood why she'd done it.

  She's going to be punished lightly, like, she has to wash the Brunos' cars or something, for keeping Tigger when she knew he belonged to me, and for bringing an animal into the house, especially so near to Hunter's room. However, the Brunos also think Kerry proved she's responsible enough to care for a pet. So tomorrow she and her parents will go to the pet store and Kerry will get to choose a hairless animal, like a turtle or some fish. Plus, next Wednesday, she's going over to Charlotte's house. She needs a friend her age. And one who's human." "That's great!" cried Claud, and the others agreed.

  The meeting continued. When the numbers on Claud's digital clock turned to 6:00, Kristy said, "Well, meeting's over." Everyone stood up, except me.

  "Come on, Mary Anne," called Dawn.

  "Can't," I said. "Tigger's asleep." Kristy groaned. "You are overprotecting that kitten." "Yeah. You're treating him, oh, kind of the way your dad used to treat you," said Claud.

  I stuck my tongue out at her and everyone laughed. Then I said, "All I know is that Tigger will not be allowed to start dating until he's at least sixteen. And I will never, ever let him get his driver's license. Or have his ears pierced." "How about his nose?" asked Kristy, as I struggled to my feet.

  I held the sleeping Tigger out toward her. "On this baby?" Tigger opened his eyes sleepily and yawned in Kristy's face.

  "Mmm. Cat-food breath," she said.

  The six of us began giggling again as we headed downstairs.

  Cat-food breath or not, I was thrilled to have Tigger back - and Logan, too.

  About the Author ANN M. MARTIN did a lot of baby-sitting when she was growing up in Princeton, New Jersey. Now her favorite baby-sitting charge is her cat, Mouse, who lives with her in her Manhattan apartment.

  Ann Martin's Apple Paperbacks are Bummer Summer, Inside Out, Stage Fright, Me and Katie (the Pest), and all the other books in the Babysitters Club series.

  She is a former editor of books for children, and was graduated from Smith College. She likes ice cream, the beach, and I Love Lucy; and she hates to cook.

  Table of Contents

  BSC025 - Mary Anne and the Search for Tigger

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